


Control

by rei_c



Series: Cannibalism Aside (Samn) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Gore, Knives, M/M, Murder, Serial Killer Dean, Serial Killer Sam, Serial Killers, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching this, Sam thinks, just really does it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is going to be a thing now, I think?

Watching this, Sam thinks, just really does it for him. It's not the silver or the blood or the broken, whimpering idiot on the floor. It's not the twilight or the smell of whiskey and leather. It's not even Dean's fingers stroking up and down the handle of Sam's favourite knife. 

It's the gleam in Dean's eyes, the absolute focus, the sheer control he has over himself, over Sam, over the person they marked for death four days ago. It's Dean grinning and smearing blood on his face with the back of his arm, trying to decide where to cut next. It's Dean laughing while the guy screams and then cooing, _There it is_ , when the guy finally just gives up and gives in.

It's the way Dean turns, eyebrow raised, as he asks, _You wanna do it or should I?_ It's the way Dean holds the knife out, says, _Come on, little brother. I got him nice and broken for you, just the way you like it._ It's the way the knife feels in his hand as he kisses Dean, tastes blood and salt and iron. It's the way Dean watches as he kneels, taps the knife against his teeth as he tries to decide where and what to cut first. It's the way Dean's voice goes husky with lust as he murmurs, _Always love seeing you work, Sammy, god, so good._

It's Dean.

\--

It wasn't always like this. When Sam was little, before he found out about what's really out there lurking in the dark, he and Dean were normal. Normal enough, anyway, for two kids who grew up together without much supervision. Dad was always gone and it was just him and Dean in motel room after motel room, long hours during the day of studying and reading and schoolwork, cold nights spent shivering in the same bed, clinging tight for warmth. So maybe it started when they were young, the part of their lives now that's only content when they're together, breathing in sync, touching, one mind in two bodies. 

The blood, though. That came later.


End file.
